Amusingly Pythonesque as it is, the outrage expressed over the content of my production of Marat/Sade is misleading. It doesn't take much, frankly, to offend certain members of the RSC's audiences. As the conceit of Weiss's play-within is that it was written and staged by the Marquis de Sade, it would be vain to be overly elegant in content or staging. Indeed, anyone who has dipped into The 120 Days of Sodom will see that I've been the model of restraint. There's nothing there that should be senselessly shocking to anyone who has lived above ground for the past decade.

What galls me about this storm in a boudoir is that the media have devoted much more time and space to regurgitating the original, sensationalist local report (in the Sunday Mercury) and commenting on the resultant scandal than to the play and production itself, which was discussed in depressingly simplistic terms.

Whereas Weiss felt that the argument in his play leaned towards Marat, the contention behind my production is that – 50 years on – it is the secular, individualist, sensualist philosophies of De Sade that define our western culture; and that it is in the Middle East – where, ironically, we find the root of the only genuine ideological challenge to capitalism – that Marat's philosophies are currently most relevant. The music and images of our production explicitly evoke the Arab Spring but sadly the critics reviewing the production mention that only in passing, if at all.

And for all that I'm dismissed as a shock-merchant, when De Sade calls for "general copulation", we respond not with Brook's orgiastic simulation but with images of solitary individuals watching pornography on mobile phones. That's a contrast worth discussing; but you'll find none of that in the print reviews. The critics have preferred instead to reminisce about the 60s, or to strike poses about how "unshocked" they are, as if I had forced them to undergo an especially gruelling fairground ride.

If a reviewer should deem a production a failure, so be it. But at least start from the presumption of purpose; discuss the ideas. And this has been the revelation for me, as a relative luddite, from this small fuss. There is now more insight to be had, in aggregate, from Twitter than from our print media; and indisputably more depth to be found in blogs written from passion, and in reflection. It is a small cultural revolution and – like all revolutions – it looks like a good thing. For now.